Sense
by TIVA ANGEL
Summary: Tony asks Ziva a question that has been bugging him for some time. A question not conventional to their level of partnership... FIRST FANFIC! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! JUST WANT TO KNOW IF I AM ANY GOOD AT WRITING!:)


**Sense**

He watched her talking on the phone with that coy little smile flitting off and on her face. He would say something, she would laugh, reply back in this oh so sweet voice that he has never heard her speak to him with. Why was this guy so special, actually firstly who is this guy? With him, it was this aggravated and annoyed voice and yeah he loved it when she was irritated but once in a while he can't help himself to just hope… that one day she will speak to him like that too. But he knew that sometimes dreaming was the reason behind all his disappointments.

He was staring again. Trying to listen to my conversation on the phone with my friend Sandra, she was getting married and I hoped I was injecting just the right amount of enthusiasm into the conversation to pass off as being as excited as all the other bridesmaids. In actual fact this wedding was just another reminder into the life that I would never be able to have. As hopeful as I maybe to get the American Dream, I know that hope was mostly a futile emotion. My eyes flitted to him, he was no longer staring at me but just past my left ear at absolutely nothing. His eyes.., they were filled with something that I saw more often than others would expect- sadness and regret. To people that only saw him when they briskly walked by would be fooled by the joker's façade that he would almost always wear. But I knew better. I knew that something was bothering him and I wasn't about to let him feel that way - lately I have been feeling that, out of everyone, he doesn't deserve to be unhappy.

I stared aimlessly now almost seeing a part of future. A bleak lonely place within which I would still work endlessly and still end up coming home every night to an empty apartment. No person to come to and hug as she made dinner, no chubby little hands to grasp and pick up. Was it worth it? Was this life? I startled, torn out from my nightmare, as I heard someone lean loudly against the filing cabinet adjoining my desk. I looked up to be met with brown, questioning orbs. I sighed, damn; she had noticed the slight slip up in my thoughts which had wiped clean a part of my daily mask. This is going to be hard to get out of.

"Hey" she said "what are you thinking?"

Wow no idle opening phrases- straight to the point; well I didn't really expect anything else. The dim lighting of my light illuminated her face in the softest way possible. Free, random strands of hair had freed itself from her loose ponytail and curved around her face, lighting brushing her still questioning eyes. It had been a long day and we all looked tired as hell, but someone she still managed to take my breath away. By heart beat accelerated as I thought about what I could have, if I just plucked up the courage to ask. But I being me diverted her serious questions with a lame lie.

"Wondering when the best time is to order some pizza so that I don't have to wait too long when I get home" I said. Her eyebrows rose in challenge of by painfully blatant lie. She really was not going to let this one go.

"Seriously, I thought we had changed from this 'I'm going to avoid the topic' nonsense. No lies, no deceptions that's what we agreed on.' Her tone was laced with annoyance but beneath it I could just make out a sense of desperation. She really wanted to know what was bugging me. Oh come on stop acting like a 15 year old constantly dwelling on small comments and hoping. But despite this alter me, I felt like she deserved to hear the truth.

I took a deep breath and looked at her slim fingers, beautifully shaped yet not painted. "I was just wondering… what it is that I had done wrong in erm you know my… personal life."

Surprise flitted on to her face as she pondered what I had just said. I couldn't blame her, I was never this blatantly desperate and feeling sorry for myself. God what had become of me?

"What do you mean? She inquired.

"Well, you know look at my track record, it's not really the ones that they have in the perfect couples book, failed relationships after relationships. It… it makes me wonder… well you know what is so unlikable of me." God- reaching a 15 year old girl more like.

She seemed to be thinking very hard about what I had just said, I looked down at my hands, heat flushing my cheeks as I realised just how pathetic I must sound. I was surprised as she gently lifted up my chin forcing me to lock eyes with her. Her hand was soft and lingering for far longer than necessary on my chin. Not that I minded, her fingers… it made me think and wonder all the more of why her eyes were filled with what I could only describe as… well pure adoration.

"You're wrong" she murmured so silently I was wondering whether she wanted me to hear that.

"You're wrong" she repeated

"Well know that we have established th-" I started,

"No, you have it all mixed up. It is not you that was wrong in those relationships, it was them. They all were well the same, blond and pretty, but that is not you, not anymore, you want something more, I know you do." She sounded nervous, a rare trait that she almost never let herself express.

"What makes you think that?" I challenged as I knew she was getting so close to what I had been hiding all those years. I couldn't face that now; no, I had not yet recovered from the last time I had fallen to deep.

However she heard my defensive tone and instantly understood what I was doing. Damn, I swear she uses some sort of woodu magic to read my thoughts.

"We are alike,, and I know what I want and sometimes I cannot hope and wonder that perhaps… that is what… you want as well." She whispered, her voice fading into the slight breeze present in the room. Did she just say what I thought she did?

"And what is it that you want,," I stuttered out, I swear my pulse could be heard by everyone in the building. She looked up at me through those dark-lashed windows, as if in battle with whether she is going to say what she wants to say. A slight smile touches her features and at that moment I realised that we were no longer going to tip-toe over the line; we were going to erase it all together.

"You."


End file.
